


Wont

by unwindmyself



Series: curious shapes shift in the dark [44]
Category: True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coitus Interruptus, Companionable Snark, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Fix-It, Gen, Team Dynamics, Vampire Family, agency and choices!, internet translations bear with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 18:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1718657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both dealing with the emotional aftereffects of the previous night's adventures and preparing for the current night's, complete with all manner of suggestive situations and sarcasm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wont

**Author's Note:**

> Part two, "Biting Down."

Willa doesn’t really remember coming to bed last night.  Her shoes are off, lined up by the bureau; her sweater is neatly hung off of the closet door; her hair is loose around her shoulders (that she remembers, Nora tugging the hairtie out and combing through her hair as she cried).  She’s still mostly dressed, though, and she notices that her door is cracked open – not all the way, but the slightest bit. Just in case.

She feels sort of numb, to be honest.  It’ll pass, and she knows that it’s more shock than actual sadness, but she still can’t stop seeing that bullet tear through her human dad’s skull, her memory playing it over in slow motion, and that means she has to focus on the mundane shit until the horrifying shit goes away.  Basic distraction techniques.  She can do that.

Normally this would be a great time to tidy things up, but it looks like – she’s pretty sure it was Eric – put everything back in its proper places before tucking her in. She actually got tucked in this morning and she doesn’t even really mind because honestly, she could probably use the comfort of it.  But she also apparently spent the whole night crying in her sleep, so the sheets are streaked with blood (gross), and upon further inspection her earrings are nowhere to be found, so it’s out of bed, out of her rumpled clothes and into a dressing gown borrowed from big sister, into the bathroom to clean her face off, and down the hall to Eric and Nora’s room.

She knocks once-twice-three times before she comes in, but it doesn’t surprise her that she finds them both kneeling on the bed, Nora bent at the waist with hands gripping the headboard and head dropped down and Eric holding her steady with one hand and stroking across her shoulders with the other.  She can’t help but wonder why there’s a scarf strewn across the pillows, but – whatever.  She didn’t come here to analyze their sex life.  She’s on business.

“Hey,” she says loudly, leaning against the doorway.

“ _G_ _od kväll, min dotter_ ,” Eric returns, his tone all jovial.

Willa can’t help it, she beams because she totally knows what he said, and she’s polite enough to wait for them to rearrange themselves – Nora sitting on the edge of the bed with her ankles crossed daintily (Willa can’t help but notice that while she’s still in her bra and panties, she’s also got a pair of black knee socks on, and there’s only one person in this house who actually owns knee socks and it’s not Nora, so she’s got a few questions) and Eric kneeling behind her and neatening up her hair (already, Willa also notices, tied into pigtails, though they’ve gotten a bit messy) – before she speaks again.

“First thing,” she says.  ”My earrings I had on last night.  I’m guessing they’re in here somewhere?”

“Bathroom counter,” Nora agrees.  ”I took them out so they wouldn’t get lost.”

Willa smiles, stupidly touched by what’s honestly just a normal gesture.  “I’m not gonna find anything fucked up if I go in lookin’ for them?” she asks, halfway joking.

“I don’t know what would give you that idea,” Eric replies with a smirk.

“What he means is of course you won’t, dear,” Nora interrupts.

“Second thing, then,” Willa calls as she moves into the ensuite and starts to rummage.  “If I kinda got blood on my sheets and I needed to take care of that...”

“There’s ammonia in the cabinet by the laundry machines,” Eric shrugs.  “That and cold water will be your best bet.  You know what you’re doing?”

“Yeah,” she rolls her eyes.  “I’m a girl.  I’ve gotten blood out of my sheets before.”

To his credit, Eric doesn’t make a face (which might make him the first guy Willa’s ever met who didn’t flinch at allusions to periods, which all things considered makes sense) but instead focuses all of his attention on pointedly nudging Nora in the arm to get her to stop giggling (which of course she’s doing, because it’s rather a good point and sort of funny besides).  “Is that all, then?” he asks, with a glance at the bedside clock adding, “We’re expecting guests anywhere as soon as in twenty minutes, if that has any effect on your plans.”

“I should be fine,” Willa shrugs.  “Are you guys gonna be?”

Eric and Nora glance at each other, Nora looking like she’s about to start giggling again.  “We’ll manage.”

 

* * *

 

Guests could be here soon, but guests aren’t here _yet_ , so Willa’s still in her dressing gown while she does her laundry.  That’s a leftover college habit, laundry while wearing pajamas, but it makes sense to her.  Why run the risk of messing up actual clothes?

“Pam lend you that?”

Willa wasn’t expecting company, she sort of figured everyone else was busy, but of said everyone else it makes the most sense that it’s Jessica (given that the other four pair off rather tidily and sexually).  “Yeah,” she agrees.  “What gave it away?”

“The fact that Pam’s the only one of us who’d have more than one of those laying around, for one,” Jessica points out.  She herself is already dressed, leggings and this loose-fitting little flowered number, but her hair is held back with sticks and her feet are bare, so it’s clear she’s not quite in go-mode either.  “You need any help?”

“Wouldn’t argue it,” Willa shrugs.  “I’ve already got the ammonia and water mixed, it just needs applied.  You get one end, I’ll get the other?”

“Sounds good,” Jessica agrees, setting out to do just that, and instead of asking about why it is they’re scrubbing blood out of Willa’s sheets (because of course she _knows_ , but she also knows that bringing it up will do more harm than good) she offers, “You want me to do your hair after?”

“Yeah, sure,” Willa  says.  A few moments pass in companionable silence, then she adds, “You know Nora borrowed some of your knee socks?”

Jessica raises an eyebrow.  “I do,” she nods, “how do you?”

“Sometimes you see things that can’t be unseen,” Willa retorts, with that certain tone of voice that basically explains it.

“Oh my gosh,” Jessica mutters, giggling behind her hand.

“I don’t think that’s what you had in mind when you lent them,” Willa smirks.

“She said somethin’ about you two were goin’ out tonight, doin’ reconnaissance,” Jessica defends.  “Not... well.”

”Oh, we are,” Willa agrees, aggressively scrubbing a particularly deep stain.  “I guess she’s just gettin’ all the mileage out of them she can.”

“If that’s the case, she can keep them,” Jessica declares archly.

By the time they’ve attacked all the stains and thrown the sheets in the laundry, the others are starting to emerge.  Pam and Tara are fully dressed (“I think it’s kinda cute the way that they coordinate without meaning to sometimes,” Jessica whispers to Willa) but Eric is in nothing but jeans an an undershirt and Nora’s still in the lingerie-and-hosiery getup she was sporting earlier (“I told you so,” Willa whispers to Jessica). 

”I think it’s clear which of us is gonna be in charge of makin’ sure the upstairs is tidy for visitors,” Pam declares, raising an eyebrow all skeptically at the others in their various states of undress. “C’mon, baby. Let’s leave them to their dress-up.”

“Pamela Swynford de Beaufort actually turning down the chance to give someone a makeover?” Tara drawls as they head up the stairs. “I’m shocked.”

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t take too terribly long to get Nora and Willa’s outfits together, considering they’ve been mostly already planned out anyway, and all Jessica has to do is put her shoes on and get her hair fixed (Willa reciprocates, it’s only fair), and Eric has similarly little to do to finish getting ready, but it’s just long enough that it makes for a dramatic reveal when they all emerge.

“The others aren’t here yet?” Jessica asks, looking around (Tara and Pam are cuddling on the couch, nobody else is anywhere to be seen).

“Have you heard anyone come in?” Pam retorts.

“Move over, lovebirds,” Eric orders, nudging Pam and Tara’s feet so he can sit down on the couch.

They’re in the process of doing so when Nora and Willa step into the room as well, and Eric has to hurry them along because they get (rather understandably) distracted taking in the other women’s outfits and just smirking in disbelief and chuckling.

“Where the hell are you gonna go spying, the set of a TV show about preppy high school kids?” Pam manages to get out, waving a hand in their general direction before leaning forward to stare at Nora more intently. “Are you actually wearing _glasses_?”

“Not prescription ones, obviously,” Nora retorts. It had seemed like a decent idea the other night when Jessica suggested it, and it had still seemed decent when Adilyn had handed over the frames they’d asked her to requisition before they all set off last night, so though she feels a bit ridiculous right now, she’s not going to back down.

“Yeah, that was my concern,” Pam laughs.

“You’re not bein’ helpful,” Willa mumbles sheepishly, tugging on her cardigan.

“It’s not a horrible look,” Tara jumps in, trying to smooth it over (and honestly making Willa even more fidgety as she silently thanks whatever that she can’t blush to give herself away). “But plaid and pigtails –” nodding to Nora – “and pleats and Mary Janes – ” nodding to Willa – “don’t exactly scream badass undercover work.”

“That’s rather the point,” Nora declares. “Schoolgirls don’t scream danger, there won’t be suspicion.”

“ _Och_ _dräkten_ _har_ _andra användningar_,” Pam interrupts, raising an eyebrow at Nora and then at Eric in turn.

“ _Va_ _d_ _är_ _det_ _för_ _dig_?” Eric asks, unsure of how to play this.

“ _Jag_ _bara_ _gör_ _en iakttagelse_ ,” Pam returns, all dry.

“ _D u säger det så du menar att skam oss, och det kommer inte att fungera_,” Nora snaps, folding her arms over her chest and smirking right back at her niece (rather if you can’t beat them, join them, but it will have to do).

_Knock-knock-knock._

“Thank goodness for that,” Jessica mutters, jumping up to get the door and put a stop to what she can (correctly) assume is a bourgeoning argument about matters too sensitive (less likely) or scandalous (more likely) for the babies’ ears.

**Author's Note:**

>  _och dräkten har andra användningar_ ; "and the costume has other uses"  
>  _vad är det för dig_ ; "what is that to you"  
>  _jag bara gör en iakttagelse_ ; "I am just making an observation"  
>  _du säger det så du menar att skam oss, och det kommer inte att fungera_ ; "you say it like you mean to shame us, and that won't work"


End file.
